


Broken Horn

by StregataDalloStregatto



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-09
Updated: 2015-10-09
Packaged: 2018-04-25 14:06:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4963567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StregataDalloStregatto/pseuds/StregataDalloStregatto
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Valka is a Qunari with a broken horn and a more broken heart. Because being a Qunari without the Qun is hard and being a Mage even more.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Broken Horn

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! If you like Dragon Age things and generally fantasy stuff (with some random personal post) here is my Tumbrl!  
> http://stregatadallostregatto.tumblr.com/

Valka Adaar was used to reactions of people about her: a Qunary mage hardly was unnoticed. 

Even when she was still with her old companions, in the mercenary group, Adaar was “the odd one”. A Qunari without Qun, more human than Qunari in their mind and not enough human at the same time for the other people, was really a strange colleague. Because the truth was sadly this: they were friends among themselves, but she was just the healer of the group and nothing more.

When she was a child, mother always said “You are special, my litlle one”.

But was difficult feeling herself special and not simply strange, when the other children in the village where so scared about her horned head or her bigger body or her strange skin. Someone, sometimes, ventured to approach and asked why she was so different. But it was rare, so Valka sitted under an old oak and simply watching the others palying together. She tried to learn their nursery - rhimes and tales and, after, she repeated them to her dolls.

“You have a gift as your father had.” mother said, looking at her proudly.

But it was hard considering her skills a gift, especially when Valka tried to heal a little boy who had blundered. When his skin was closed, he ran way and the other children started to cry and scream. Mother packed up their stuff hurriedly that very night, leaving the village with her before people could inform someone called “Templars”. These “Templars” lived across the border, but mother explained that they easily could arrive.  
So, she chose to find a new house in the hinterland, near a place named Par Vollen on their old map. The new village was even smaller, but mother chose it because there was a man, a mage, an old mother’s friend.

He started to taught her what magic was, how to use for healing or for fighting.

The man was a gentle, funny mentor and Valka was very happy to read his books or go with him for searching elfroots and other healing herbs. They ate together sweet berries while he was showing her spells and tricks, studied together ancient scrolls and very soon she began to understand what a father was.

She was thirteen when she met an other Qunari for the first time, a merchant from Par Vollen. And for the first time she heard the words “Tal Vashot”, full of disgust and condemnation.

“You were the most precious treasure throughout the world, for me and your father. We wanted you to grow up free and beloved.” her mother ended her long explanation about the Qun, the Qunari and her family with those words.

That day, Valka learned she was different from everyone, almost unique, but she couldn’t decide if was happy or sad. Maybe both.

Many years later, she became even more unique, thanks a failed magic that gave her the power of sealing breaches in the sky, but amazingly this brought her some things she never dreamed to have: love, friendship, a good place in the world where Valka was really glad to stay. Some days, she strongly believed that happiness’d come back to her. A real, full happiness without the bitterness of the failure and the fear to fail again.

So, when someone was staring she simply ignored it, because when the world called you the Herald of a god, some stares were inevitable.

But, to be completely honest, she was comforted that people observed her hand and not her head.

A glowing magic hand was thousand times more interesting than a broken horn. Before, when her head was the most strange thing on her body, almost everyone asked about her right horn.

How she lost it? A wrong spell? During a battle? And a battle against who? Tevinter, maybe? Or an enemy Qunari?

She usually mumbled something about a battle and quickly tried to change the subject.

How she could speak about a thing that hurt her so deeply even after ten years?

That broken horn was a memento about her hinability to protect her loves one.

She had explained all the story only to Cassandra, after that her dear friend told her about her brother Anthony. Valka shared her doubts and regrets. She almost waited for a reprimand, a disgusted gaze, but Cassandra grabbed her hand and said nothing while Valka started to cry and cry and cry. 

Because yes, one of her horns was lost because of a battle against mages and the day she lost it was the day she lost a piece of heart. A very big one.

For a lot of time she didn’t bear her reflection in a mirror.  
That wound remembered her even a powerful healer mage couldn’t fix everything.  
That the magic could be a gift but also a terrible curse.  
That she failed.  
That she wouldn’t have failed again.

**Author's Note:**

> My first fan fiction about my first Qunari Inquisitor.
> 
> A very, very little angst. I don’t know if it’s work, her story in mi head is so complicated and a little long. 
> 
> I hope you like it, and as always, I so much appreciate your likes, reblogs, kudos and comments.


End file.
